The Sun in the Darkness
by headoverhook
Summary: The years in hell have left Dean with wounds he believes will never heal. Until he realizes that opening his heart is the only way to mend his soul.
1. Chapter 1

**I was sick a few weeks ago and couldn't do anything else than watch TV, browsed through Netflix, stumbled over Supernatural and thought ... why not? Seven weeks later I'm half way through season 8, and a die hard Dean Winchester fan. A friend of mine told me he is so 'me', and she is totally right. Dean is so my character. I didn't stand a chance. And since I love to write, I just couldn't resist trying my hand on some SPN fanfiction. **

**I don't really ship Dean with anyone on the show, but I think under different circumstances Jo and he would have been perfect for each other. This story is slightly AU since I needed to incorporate Jo more in his life, and it's set in season 4 when Dean came back from hell, with Bobby being still alive, and Castiel being a 'normal' angel. **

**Okay, I'm gonna stop rambling now (my AN's are normally not this long), and just let you read the first chapter! :-)**

**Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, just this story.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

He didn't know what had changed, why he suddenly looked at her differently. Or maybe this had always lurked deep inside of him, and his time in hell had just brought it closer to the surface.

He just didn't know.

But between trying to get back to his normal life, and wrapping his head around the fact that there were really angels in this world - one of them had apparently pulled him out of hell, something he hadn't thought possible, believing he'd never escape the horror that was hell – realizing that Jo was a woman, and not the girl he'd teased relentlessly every time Sam and he had needed to swing by Bobby's house, had hit him like a freight train.

He just needed to get laid. That was the problem. A nice fuck with a stranger he picked up in a bar – that would definitely get her out of his head.

Because seriously – Jo was like a sister to him, ever since Ellen died six years ago, and Jo appeared on Bobby's doorstep and refused to leave again. He hadn't seen much of her over the years, Bobby being adamant that she got a proper education, trying to keep her as far away from all the hunting business as possible. Not that he was very successful in that department. More than once Dean had found Jo sitting in one of the car wrecks at the other side of the yard – as far away from the house as possible – immersed in one of Bobby's books.

She would end up a hunter like the rest of them. She would end up dead. Like so many before her. Like his parents. Like her mother. That was the reason you did not develop feelings for anyone in their line of work. Especially not for a woman you had no business having anything than platonic feelings for. But since he came back from hell he'd caught himself more than once staring at her ass; his cock telling him that there was nothing platonic about imaging grabbing this ass with his hands while he was fucking her against the wall.

But relationships were out of the question for people like him; not that he'd ever been even slightly tempted to have anything serious with a woman. Sex without strings – that was all that he wanted, and he definitely didn't want to fuck a woman he might care too much about afterwards. Sex was there to relieve some pressure, and there was no way he would actually sleep with Jo. No freaking way.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes. The cool night breeze was wafting in through the window of the car, and just for a moment he could relax. Just for a few seconds he thought about absolutely nothing. But then a memory of hell flashed over his closed eyelids, and he lifted the bottle of Jack to his mouth to take a deep gulp.

The solitude of his car and the alcohol were the only things that got him through the nights. He couldn't talk to anyone about it, couldn't admit to anyone that he'd failed, that he'd broken under the torture eventually. He just ... he couldn't tell anyone. Not even Sam. Especially not Sam.

Because how could he tell anyone about the horrendous things he'd done in hell? About the number of souls he'd tortured and extinguished? How was he supposed to explain to anyone that it'd felt like forty years down there, and not four months? That he'd eventually succumbed to the darkness inside of him?

How?

He wasn't supposed to be back on earth; he didn't deserve to live. He didn't want to be part of God's plan. What was even his freaking plan? They should have left him down in hell.

Where he belonged.

He stared out of the window, tears burning in his eyes, and his fingers tightened around the bottle as he fought against his inner demons. But the problem was … he didn't believe he could ever leave them behind. Didn't believe he'd ever be able to defeat them.

He should leave. Leave Sam. Leave Bobby.

Leave Jo.

He felt too sullied by the things he did in hell, and he didn't want to drag anyone he loved down with him.

Because no matter what he did, there was only one possible outcome … eventually he would end up back in hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What are you doing?"

He suppressed a sigh as he heard his brother's voice. Somehow he'd hoped he could just leave without having to talk to anyone, get on the road, call one of Sam's phones, and leave him a message when he was far enough away. But no such luck apparently.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said, closing the trunk with a thud before he turned around to face his brother.

"Dean!"

How Sam managed to pack so much meaning in his given name he would never understand. Exasperation, pain, hurt, worry. It was all there, in one simple word.

"Sam!" he replied, leaning against the trunk and crossing his legs at the ankles.

"You're running away," Sam told him quietly, his voice taking on an accusing tone.

"I'm not running away, Sam." He wasn't. It wasn't running. He was trying to keep them safe. They were better off without him. But there was no point in telling Sam that. He would just start an argument that would get them nowhere. "I'm just leaving. For a while."

"Dean, you ..."

The sound of wings interrupted Sam, and a second later Castiel poofed out of thin air beside Dean, his hand closing around Dean's shoulder as if he could hold him back. The angel's grip tightened when Dean jerked away, and he realized that Castiel probably could hold him back if he wanted to. The angel was a lot stronger than he looked. Freaking angel powers.

"You're not going, Dean."

"Look at that. The angel squad," Dean said, the sarcasm thick in his voice.

"I don't understand," Castiel replied confused, looking around. "I'm alone."

"Seriously ... you taking everything literally is quite a nuisance. Someone should give you lessons, Cas."

"You're offering to teach me?" Castiel asked, his brows furrowing as he locked eyes with Dean.

"Na, how about you let Sam explain it to you. He is good at that kind of stuff."

"Dean!" He stiffened when Sam said his name in that tone again, and looked back at his little brother over his shoulder, steeling himself for whatever was coming out of his mouth next. "Please stay. I can't ... I can't lose you again."

"You're not losing me, Sammy," Dean said softly, feeling his resolve crumble when Sam just looked at him with that hurt expression written all over his face, and Dean turned back to Castiel, hoping he might at least persuade the angel to let him go.

"You need to stay with your family, Dean."

And there went the help from that side.

"Why? That's God's order or what?"

"You're safer with them."

"But are they safer with me around?" Dean shot back, groaning inwardly as he saw Bobby and Jo step out of the house to join them.

"I can force you to stay, Dean."

"Some angel voodoo?"

"I don't know what that means. But I can use my powers as an angel to bind you to your family."

"Just fucking great," Dean huffed, pushing himself away from the car, feeling the urge to hit something.

He looked from face to face, saw the pain on his brother's face, the knowing look on Bobby's, Castiel looked slightly confused – but somehow this expression rarely left his face - and then his eyes fell on Jo, leaning against the doorframe. Her expression was completely blank, he couldn't read her. She just looked at him, holding eye contact without even blinking, and somehow he was the first one to look away.

"Fine," he hissed. "I'm staying."

-/-

He'd fled into the yard, needing to be alone for a while. He was sitting on the hood of a car, leaning against the windshield and staring up in the sky as he heard the telltale flap of wings.

"Would you please leave me alone, Castiel?" Dean said calmer than he felt. "As you can see ... I'm not going anywhere. So you can take your little wings, and fly back to where you've come from."

"You're important, Dean. God needs you. The angels need you."

"Yeah, you've said that before." Dean replied, closing his eyes and hoping the angel would just disappear. But when he didn't hear the sound of wings, he opened his eyes again, seeing Castiel still standing at the same spot, just looking at him.

"Come on, man. Look at me. Do I look like I can save the freaking world? I don't think so."

"Dean, I ..."

"Just leave me the hell alone, Castiel," Dean growled. "Can't I just have a few minutes to myself? Just for once?"

He closed his eyes again, and this time he heard the fluttering of Castiel's wings, and let out a relieved breath when he was finally alone again.

-/-

It could have been only a few minutes when he heard someone approaching, and without opening his eyes he grumbled, "Leave me the fucking hell alone!"

"We have a case," Sam said quietly, and Dean opened his eyes slowly, flinching slightly when he saw the worry in Sam's eyes.

"Great," Dean replied, jumping down from the hood. "I'm in the right mood to slay some monsters."

But when they reached the Impala Jo was standing beside it, looking as if she wanted to join them, and Dean swirled around to Sam.

"Don't tell me she wants to come with us."

"Come on, Dean. You can do better," Jo said, shooting him a huge grin when he turned around to her. "You haven't forgotten my name yet, have you?"

"We are not taking her with us."

"She can help, Dean," Sam argued. "She is good. We worked together while you were ... away."

"Away? Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, sudden anger bubbling up in him. "The trip to hell was one peachy, sun filled sucker of a vacation. It was definitely hot down there."

"Dean, I didn't ..."

"Save it, Sam," Dean snapped, whirling around to face Jo and pointing his finger at her. "And you're not coming with us. Four months of hunting doesn't make you a hunter I want to have by my side. I can't worry about you getting hurt while hunting evil."

"Do you want to tell him, or should I?" Jo asked Sam, her mouth tilting up into a grin.

"He is all yours," Sam replied, his lips twitching.

"What are you two talking about?" Dean questioned, a disquieting feeling settling in his stomach as he watched Jo.

"I'm a hunter a lot longer than the few months you were away, Dean."

"Yeah, right."

"You really thought I actual went to college?"

"You didn't?"

"No," Jo explained. "I traveled through the country, visited other hunters, learned from the best."

"God damn it, Jo. Why?" Dean hissed, stepping closer, his voice getting louder and louder with each word. "Why the hell would you do that? Why would you choose to live like this, if you actually could live a normal life?"

"A normal life? You serious?" Jo yelled back, pressing her hands against his chest, and shoving him until his back hit the car. "I could never live a normal life. Never. I know what's out there, Dean. I know what you're facing every day. And you want me to just sit back and do nothing?" She stepped back then, folding her arms over her chest, her eyes blazing with fire as she continued, "To go to college, marry a nice man, and have 2.5 children, and a house with a white picket fence? While the people I love are out there fighting evil to keep us all safe? While they risk their lives every goddamn day without getting any gratitude? Goddamn it, Dean! You of all people should know that I can't live a normal life."

"Don't curse," he said quietly, his eyes wandering to Sam over Jo's shoulder, and his little brother just grinned, the grin telling him that he didn't stand a chance to get her to stay. Looking back at Jo, still standing in front of him with her arms folded over her chest, and a stubborn expression on her face, he realized that he couldn't make decisions for her anymore. She was old enough to decide for herself, no matter how much he wanted to protect her. At least when she was hunting with them he could look out for her. He locked eyes with her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he said, "Bobby would wash your filthy mouth with soap if he could hear you."

Jo relaxed visibly, her hands loosening the death grip she'd had on her arms, and her mouth tilted up in a lopsided smirk as she asked, "So I'm in?"

"Can I keep you away without chaining you to the bedpost?" he asked, ignoring the tug in his groin when he imagined Jo being chained to the bed. Naked. This was definitely not the time for lewd thoughts right now.

"No."

"Okay then," he said, walking around the hood of the car. Opening the door, he leaned his forearm on the roof and looked at his brother and Jo, raising his eyebrows when they didn't move. "Get in the car. Some evil sons of bitches are waiting to get slayed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You're with me."

Jo didn't even want to argue. She'd known from the beginning that Dean wouldn't let her out of his sight for quite some time - until he was sure she was good enough a hunter to be on her own, and as long as he hadn't seen that for himself there was no point in telling him they could separate to cover more ground.

"Fine," she said, hiding her smile when she saw his surprised expression.

They worked their way through the abandoned warehouse with their guns at the ready, separating from Sam after they'd searched the ground floor, and when Dean and she swept through the second floor the ghost almost knocked Dean out if she hadn't had such great reflexes, and shot it before it could get to him.

"Just saved your ass, Winchester," she told him, putting the gun over her shoulder and grinning at him.

"Yeah, yeah," he growled. "Stop gloating, Harvelle."

But she saw the smile tucking at the corner of his mouth, and she'd seen the proud expression flickering over his face after she'd shot the ghost into oblivion.

It might still take some time until he was totally convinced she was capable of hunting with them, but this trip was definitely a start.

-/-

She found the brothers immersed in research when she came back to the motel room, letting the bag with burgers drop on the book Dean was reading.

"Food," she declared, putting the six pack of beer and the soda cans down on the table before shrugging out of her jacket and throwing it on the nearest bed.

"Burger?" Dean asked with an eager expression on his face.

"Yes, your favorite burgers from that place across the post office," she replied, almost laughing out loud when he ripped the bag open with a huge grin on his face.

"And you brought me pie," he sighed when he pulled out the container with the blueberry pie. "I love you."

She startled for just a second, glad that both brothers were too occupied with the food to notice it. Of course she knew how Dean had meant it, but the comment had still rattled something deep inside of her.

She was glad when Dean shoved the bag in her direction and mumbled through a full mouth that she shouldn't be shy and take some for herself.

She'd almost forgotten the weird feeling when the question of their sleeping arrangements came up. She could have hit herself for not thinking of it sooner, but the fact that they were three people and only two beds had somehow slipped her mind until now.

She would have opted to sleep with Sam in the same bed, since she'd never felt anything for him more than sisterly feelings, but Dean just waved her towards the bed his jacket was lying on and said, "I'm just gonna research for a little while longer. I'm not sleepy yet. You can take that one."

She looked closely at him then, realizing the dark shadows under his eyes, and guessing why he didn't want to sleep yet. She knew he was plagued by nightmares, and she'd never believed him when he told them he didn't remember hell.

She wished he would talk to her - or Sam. But you had to give Dean time and space. He would talk when he was ready. Not before.

She slipped out of her shoes and laid down, closing her eyes. She thought it would take her some time to fall asleep, but only minutes later the low rumble of Dean and Sam's voices faded away and she drifted off.

-/-

She woke up to Dean tossing beside her, his foot hitting her leg as he threw himself around. Sweat was covering his forehead, his brows were pinched, his hands balled into fists beside his body, and Jo reached for his shoulder, grabbing it to try to shake him awake.

"Dean, wake up," she hissed as loud as she dared to not wake up Sam. "Wake up."

He suddenly jerked upright, his eyes wide open, his breath coming out in harsh gasps.

"You're okay," she said softly. "It was a nightmare, Dean."

"Yeah," he rumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. "Right. Only a nightmare."

He stood up from the bed, and paced over to the table, pressing his hands hard against the surface as he leaned forward. His whole body was rigid, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he pressed his hands so hard against the table that his knuckles turned white.

She wanted to help him, and without thinking about it she made him an offer she probably shouldn't have.

"Come here." She leaned back against the headrest and patted the mattress between her legs.

"What? I'm not gonna ..."

"Dean Winchester, stop being a wuss and come here. Your shoulders look like a rock," she said. "I just wanna help. So come here."

"No funny business."

"Please, you're not that irresistible that I can't keep my hands were they belong," she huffed, whirling her hand around as she said, "Shirt off."

"You just want to see me naked," he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows at her, his mouth curling up into a salacious smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

"Not much to look at anyway," she shot back, patting the mattress again. "Stop stalling, Winchester. I still want to catch some sleep tonight, and if you keep tossing beside me I'll never get any."

He only hesitated for a few more seconds before he pulled the shirt over his head and sat down between her legs. He actually let out a low groan when her fingers dug into the tense muscles at the base of his neck, and his head tilted forward, giving her better access.

"God, that's just awesome."

"Told you."

She worked silently, kneading his muscles until the tension eased before moving to the side, kneading the hard muscles between his neck and shoulders. He flinched slightly as she reached a knot, but relaxed again when she gentled her touch.

She didn't think it would affect her in any way, the days of having a crush on him were long over, or so she'd thought. But feeling his skin under her fingers ... it tugged at something low in her belly, reminding her that she wasn't the little girl anymore that was looking up at him. Now she was imagining how his fingers might feel skipping over her skin, how the calluses on his fingertips might shoot jolts of electricity through her whole body.

"God, Jo. This feels fantastic," he rumbled in a low voice, and she dug her fingers deeper in his muscles, making him wince.

This had been a gigantically bad idea. His arms were propped up on her knees, his fingers brushing against her calves, and then he tilted his head again, his scruff scraping over her fingers, almost making her jump.

Okay, this had really been a bad idea of enormous proportions. She should have kept her hands to herself. Being in such a cozy situation with him shot all her hormones into overdrive. She was only a woman after all, and of course she'd lied earlier. There was plenty to look at.

She gulped hard as he opened his eyes slowly and looked back at her, his whole expression being extremely relaxed, and an unwelcome thought jumped into her mind. If he would look like that after he'd just spent himself inside of her.

Her hand slapped against his skin, startling him and herself as she shoved him forward and said, "That should be enough. You should try to get some more sleep."

He plopped down beside her, his eyes already drooping shut as he breathed. "Thank you, Jo."

"You're welcome, Dean."

It took her hours until she finally fell into a restless sleep, and when she got woken up by a rough shaking of her shoulders she was glad that her mind was still too hazy so that her body couldn't betray her as her eyes focused on the sight in front of her. She let out a long breath when Dean sauntered back to the bathroom, the towel slung low around his hips, and for a moment she let herself enjoy the view of his bare back before she shook herself out of it.

She could enjoy his physiques ... as long as she didn't end up wanting more. Because Dean was Dean, and feeling more for him was out of the question.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

If he had been possessed he'd actually have an excuse. But he sure as hell wasn't possessed. So why he'd agreed to let Jo put her hands on him was beyond him. It'd felt too damn good, made him forget for just a few moments how royally screwed up his life was, made him forget what he'd done in hell ... he'd just felt her fingers easing the tension in his muscles, and relaxed for the first time in months.

Not that it was doing him any good the next morning. He might have slept like a baby, but when he woke up the next morning and turned around and looked at her ... the feeling rising in the pit of his stomach made him jump out of bed. And of course he sported one gigantic morning erection, and being able to watch Jo without her noticing it wasn't calming him down at all.

Cursing under his breath, he walked to the bathroom, deciding that he was in desperate need of a long cold shower.

-/-

"You're an idjit. You know that, right?"

Dean kept staring into the book, even though he hadn't turned the page for the last thirty minutes. He couldn't concentrate, his eyes flickering to her every few minutes, but he thought he'd been careful, that no one saw it. Apparently he hadn't been careful enough. "How so?"

"Actually you're both idjits," Bobby replied, slamming his hand on the book to force Dean to look up.

"We?" Dean asked, leaning back in the chair, and folding his arms across his chest, glad that Jo had left a few minutes ago, and Sam was in the basement. "What did Sam and I do that got your hackles up, Bobby?"

"I ain't talking about Sam and you, I'm talking about you and Jo."

"Me and Jo?" Dean furrowed his brows, trying to act surprised. "What is there to talk about?"

"I ain't blind, Dean," Bobby huffed. "You two can't keep your eyes of each other every time you're in the same room."

He knew Bobby was right, but he would never admit to it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dean, living in denial ain't gonna help in that case. You know it won't."

"I'm not living in denial."

"Idjit!" Bobby mumbled, and turned around, walking out of the room.

A moment later Jo appeared on the doorstep, and for a second Dean feared Bobby had talked to her too, but he'd discarded that idea instantly. She just asked him if he wanted her to bring back anything, because she was on her way to the supermarket. He just shook his head, and looked back down, not seeing the words printed on the page.

Even if his feelings for Jo were stronger than he wanted to admit, he would never act on them, because she deserved someone better than him. Not someone whose soul was charred, not someone who could never love her the way she should be loved.

-/-

"Get in here," Dean hissed, pulling Jo into a closet, and shutting the door behind them.

He was holding his breath, straining to hear if any sound came from outside, and then Jo shifted against him, and in a blink of an eye he forgot everything about the dire situation they were in as her scent hit his nostrils.

One of her hands was resting on his waist, her breasts brushing against his chest with every breath. He wanted to step away, but there was no room to bring more space between them.

"Can you hear anything?" she whispered, and he groaned inwardly when her lips skimmed over his cheek.

She leaned even closer towards him, her lower body swiveling against his.

"Jo, please stop moving." He sucked in a breath as she leaned back to look up into his face, her core pressing against him, showing her without a doubt how much this closeness affected him. "Damn."

"Aehm ..." She tried to step away from him, but didn't get far before the shelf at her back stopped her. "Sorry?"

"It's just the adrenaline, and you're a woman," he gritted out through clenched teeth, tilting his head back to look down at her. He could hardly see anything but he saw her mouth curling up into a smile.

"Right," she said, and Dean clearly heard the sarcastic tone in her voice. "You're a man and just can't help yourself, can you?"

"Exactly," he told her, relaxing slightly in hope that she would put him out of his misery any moment, but apparently she had some other idea.

"You know that's a really pathetic excuse, Winchester." She shifted again, her hips rocking into his, and her hand slipped under his shirt, her nails scraping along the waistbands of his pants, a deep growl rumbling out of his chest as he grabbed her hand before she could go any further.

"Stop that," he hissed.

"Why?" she asked, wiggling her fingers in his grip. "You afraid?"

"I'm not ..." He couldn't finish the sentence, because she pressed her lips on his, and kissed him.

He knew he shouldn't kiss her back, knew he should push her away, but his body wasn't listening. He kept her hand in his, pulling it behind her back and crushing her against his body, his mouth taking hers hungrily.

He just didn't fucking care right now if this was a bad idea, because he was kissing Jo and god damn it, he wanted to just rip her clothes off and take her right here and there. He was so damn hard that he thought he would explode any second, and he deepened the kiss even more, the shelf rattling as he pushed her against it.

She moaned under his lips, the sound making him even harder, and then her free hand was in his hair, her leg climbing up his. He released her hand to grip her thigh, pulling her leg further up and rocking his hips forward. They groaned simultaneously, Jo's fingers digging into the base of his neck, a sharp pain suddenly shooting through his bottom lip as she bit down on it, and he almost lost control. Almost.

He darted his tongue back into her mouth for one last searing kiss before he pushed back, fumbling for the door knob. He just needed to get out of here. It didn't matter if the werewolves were waiting for them out there or not. If he didn't leave right now, he'd do something he'd regret.

Stumbling out of the closet the moment the door opened, he hurried down the floor, not even looking back if Jo was following him.

"Dean?"

He wanted to just run away, to just ignore her. But he couldn't. Turning around slowly, he faced her. Her clothes were disheveled, her hair ruffled. She looked as if she'd just climbed out of bed after an insanely great fuck, and he had to ball his hands into fists, the urge to just walk back up to her and continue what they'd started almost overwhelming.

"This was a mistake," he rasped, ignoring the pain he saw flickering over her face. "It can never happen again."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

What did she expect really? That all his walls would just disappear because she kissed him in a broom closet?

She let out a self-deprecating chuckle, throwing another stone into the water. The last few weeks had been draining. She was exhausted. Physically and mentally.

She shouldn't have kissed him. She didn't even know why she'd kissed him all of a sudden. She knew beforehand nothing would come out of it. But now she knew how good of a kisser he really was. Now she knew how he felt pressed against her, and she wanted more. Something she'd always known he couldn't give her.

"God, you're one pathetic woman, Jo Harvelle," she murmured under her breath, shaking her head about herself.

He would never let anyone near himself. Ever. There was no point in hoping she could change that. Because that was only a myth, a myth that only existed in movies and novels. No woman could change a man. She didn't even want to change him anyway. He was Dean. He was who he was. Either you loved him the way he were or you didn't.

And she loved him. More than a brother. But she needed to stay strong. No more slips of sanity anymore. None.

"Hey, kiddo," Sam's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned around to him. "Everything alright?"

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Listen, just give him some time, okay?"

"It's alright. Dean is Dean, Sam." She grinned up at him, deciding wallowing in self-pity wasn't her style at all. "We love him the way he is, right?"

"Yes," Sam replied softly, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. "Yes, we do."

-/-

And there they were again … on another evening before a suicide mission, and she shouldn't be surprised when he walked up to her with that smile on his face.

"Don't, Dean." She stopped him, pressing her hand against his chest to keep him from stepping any further into her personal space. "Just don't."

"No 'last night on earth speech'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and just for one small moment – when she looked into his eyes, and saw so much more than he was willing to let people see – she was tempted. For one small moment she let herself say yes in her head, let herself imagine how great a night with him could be. For one small moment.

"No," she said softly, her fingers curling into his shirt, holding on to him for a second before pushing him back. "No speech. No sex. No to everything."

"You sure?"

She almost said she wasn't sure of anything, but she just shot him a lopsided grin instead. "I'm sure."

"Too bad."

-/-

"Dean, I'm sorry." Castiel was standing beside him, his hand clapped around Dean's shoulder, and Dean wanted to lash out, wanted to shout at the angel why he didn't rescue her. "There was nothing I could do."

Letting out a shaky breath, he turned his head, staring into the distance, his hands clenching into fists beside his body. "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Would you … could you just leave me alone, Cas?" He just couldn't talk to anyone. Not now. "I … I just need to be alone right now."

"Sure," Cas replied. "I'll leave you alone."

He was stoic, couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she was gone. Just a few hours ago they'd been standing in the kitchen, when he'd come on to her in a total douchebag move, but she'd taken it in stride, and when he closed his eyes he could still see her smile.

"God damn it, Jo. You should have been more careful."

He leaned forward, pressing his hands onto the hood of the car. There was nothing anyone of them could have done. She didn't make it out of the burning building. She was gone forever. She wouldn't come back. Ever.

He felt the tears burn in his eyes, and he tried desperately to hold them back, but he didn't stand a chance. He fucked up. Because he was too scared to let anyone near him, scared they couldn't live with all the scars he was wearing on his body and soul. But with Jo it had always been different. Deep down he'd known that. But he'd still pushed her away.

A strangled sob escaped him when he remembered that one kiss in the closet. How good she'd felt in his arms. How much he'd enjoyed kissing her. How much he wanted to take her.

"God, Jo."

He slid to the ground, leaning his head back against the car. The tears just kept coming, running down his cheeks. He felt empty, her loss had ripped a hole into his heart, the pain of not giving them a chance was weighing him down, making it hard to breathe.

She was gone. And he never told her that he loved her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Of course he drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He always had, he always would. But like always the alcohol didn't really help. She'd left a hole in his heart he didn't know how to mend, and trying to keep going as if he wasn't hurting so damn much was getting harder and harder with each passing day.

"I need to get away for a few days," he announced one day, grabbing his bag and walking out to the Impala without waiting for Sam or Bobby to say anything.

Of course Sam came after him. "Where are you going, Dean?"

"Just ..." He closed his eyes for a second, balling his hand into a fist on the top of his car. "It's just for a few days, Sam."

"But ..."

"Let him go, Sam."

He'd never been more grateful to Bobby than right in this moment. He wasn't sure if he could explain it any further without breaking. And he didn't want to break, didn't think he could pick up the pieces if he let himself break.

So he needed to get away. Just until her loss wasn't hurting so much any longer.

-/-

Jo looked at Bobby's house, wondering how the welcome would go. Of course they would sprinkle her with holy water first thing, and she had the silver knife already in her hand. But her heart was fluttering in her chest, because she should have called first, but somehow she couldn't. They probably wouldn't have believed it was her anyway.

She almost hadn't made it out of the burning building alive, and had broken down when she was far enough away. Apparently she'd hit her head when she fell unconscious, and had been in a coma for two months before she came back.

Two whole months. They would have thought her dead, and her heart lurched into her throat again when she thought about the pain she caused them without wanting to. There had been nothing she could do about it. She'd been in a coma. But she still wished they would have known.

Taking in a deep breath, she made the first step. Better to get it over with quickly before she was losing her nerves.

-/-

"Dean, there is … I don't even know how to tell you that. But ..." Dean looked up at his little brother, furrowing his brows as he saw the excited expression on Sam's face. He'd been gone for six weeks, and surely his brother hadn't missed him that much. He already had a sarcastic remark on his lips, when Sam's next words sucker-punched him and knocked all the air out of his lungs. "Jo is alive."

It couldn't be. She couldn't be alive. He'd just managed to deal with the pain that was still slicing through his heart whenever he thought of her. And now she wasn't even dead? She was alive?

"Hey, Dean."

His head snapped around as he heard her voice, and he staggered backwards, his back hitting the Impala hard as he stared at her.

"Jo?" he asked, still not believing what he was seeing. His eyes flickered over to Sam and Bobby, and both nodded.

"She is clean," Sam told him before he could ask. "We checked everything."

"It's really you?"

She was walking towards him now, and he still didn't believe it, but then she lifted her hand and touched him, and he knew she was real, and all he could do was pull her into his arms, hugging her really, really tight.

-/-

She knew he would be out here. He always went to his car when he was dealing with something. And her coming back from the dead had to have thrown him. That was for sure.

She found him leaning against the hood of the Impala, bottle of scotch in hand, and she joined him, leaning beside him. They didn't say anything for quite some time, and the silence was pressing down on her. She needed to tell him so much, but most of all … she needed to touch him. She just needed him. And to hell with all the reasons she had kept repeating over and over in her head. That was before she almost died.

"Look … about what you said, or wanted to say before … I ..." she trailed off, not sure how to tell him what she needed to get off her chest. But then she looked at him, and the words just came out. "I don't want to have any regrets, Dean. And not spending at least one night with you … that would be a regret."

"Don't say that, Jo. Just … please don't."

He pushed away from the car, walking a few feet away, the empty bottle slipping out of his hand and landing with a loud thump on the ground without breaking.

"So you don't want me anymore? Is that it?" she asked, balling her hands into fists beside his body. God, she was a fool for even telling him this. Such a goddamn fool. "Fine. I'm not gonna force myself on you."

"God damn it, Jo." She couldn't even blink before he was back, gripping her arms and lifting her up, sitting her down on the hood, and stepping between her legs, his face only inches away from hers as he barked, "You were dead. You hear me … dead. I mourned you, and I … God, you being dead … it fucking almost broke me. I can't … I just can't. I can't."

But he was still standing between her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs, and then he let out another curse and pulled her forward. "God, Jo. I fucking need you."

His mouth crashed down on hers, and the next minute was more of a blur. But somehow they managed to get the clothes out of the way - her jeans was hanging from one ankle, his was pooled around his - and she felt the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance, ready to push in but then he suddenly stopped.

"Jo, I … I don't have a condom with me," he rasped, his hot breath brushing over her skin as he tried to keep a hold on his control.

"We don't need one," she replied, wrapping her legs around his waist. "It's safe."

He only hesitated for a brief moment, and she let out a loud gasp when he pushed into her, burying himself completely in her in one thrust. It was so not comfortable on the hood of the car, and she felt as if she would slip down any moment, but she couldn't care less right about now. Dean was pounding into her, taking her with deep and hard thrusts, and it was wonderful and amazing, and she completely forgot where they were as he kissed her again, snapping his hips against her just right so that with each plunge he also hit her clit, and she spiraled out of control, sinking her teeth into his shirt when she came around him, feeling him stiffen only moments later as he spurted his release into her.

She was staring up at the night sky, trying to get her bearings when he began shifting atop of her, his raspy voice reaching her ears, "This was ..."

"If you say this was a mistake, Dean Winchester, I'm gonna slap you so hard that you'll wish you've never been born."

"You would?" he replied, pulling back so that he could look down at her, and the tenseness went out of her body as she saw his grin. His arms came around her waist and he lifted her off the hood and into his arms without slipping out of her, and the intimacy of the moment stole her breath away as he buried his face into her neck, whispering against her skin, "We are hunters, Jo. And I can't … I can't let this go any further, and then lose you. You have to understand. I just can't."

The thing was … she did understand him. But she still wanted more. She wanted everything. But she also knew she couldn't push him, knew she had to let him go.

"Can we at least have this night?" she whispered, tightening her walls around him and making him jerk.

"But only this night," he replied, carrying her around the car, slipping out of her so that he could open the door and push her on the backseat.

She watched him as he got rid of his clothes completely, her body already aching for him again, and she fumbled with her own clothes until she was as naked as he. She locked eyes with him then, a few silent seconds passed where they only stared at each other, before he joined her on the backseat without uttering a word, closing the door behind him.

She didn't care that the backseat was almost as uncomfortable as the hood, because she wouldn't take the chance that he'd change his mind on the way to the house. If they only had this one night she would make the most of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

He slammed her against the wall, kissing her as if his life depended on it. He would blame the adrenaline, he would push her away again afterwards. Because this – them – it could not happen. It just couldn't.

But right now … God, he needed her. He needed to feel her wet, tight sheath squeezing him, needed to hammer into her until she whimpered his name in that hoarse whisper that drove him almost mad with lust, made him fuck her even harder.

This was insane. So insane.

"Fuck me, Dean. God, please … fuck me."

And then he was there, both of them groaning loudly as he slammed into her. Her nails were biting into his skin as he drove into her, her teeth digging into his neck as he took her hard against the wall. The part of his brain that was still functioning yelled at him that she deserved better than to be fucked against a shed in the middle of nowhere, her pants dangling from her ankle because he had only been able to shove it down her legs, fumbling with his belt and zipper while she'd slipped out of one leg, and then he'd hauled her up by her thighs, positioned himself and just plunged into her.

"Oh my God." Her hot breath brushed over his skin, and he groaned when she clawed at him even harder, the sharp pain of her nails almost making him lose control completely.

"Fuck," he growled, his fingers gripping her tighter, probably leaving marks behind as he hammered into her. He felt her walls starting to flutter around him, and he gritted his teeth, tilting her hips forward to hit her even deeper. "God, Jo."

And then he spurted his release into her, a deep moan rumpling out of his chest as her walls tightened around him, squeezing him hard.

He didn't say a word as he slipped out of her, fumbling with his clothes, not even looking at her. He slumped against the Impala a few moments later, staring into space until she leaned against the car beside him silently, waiting for him to speak. He didn't know what to tell her. Just knew he wasn't the right one for her, knew that it was probably time to finally tell her what happened in hell.

"Jo, I … I can't … you deserve better."

"Dean, I ..."

"No, let me finish," he said firmly, taking in a deep breath before he continued, "I know I told all of you I don't remember hell. But that's not true. I remember everything. The pain. The torture. Everything." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, balling his hands into fists as a flash of past horrors flickered through his mind. He forced himself to open his eyes again, to shove the memories back into the darkest corner of his brain, so that he could actually tell her without losing his mind. "What have been four months up here for you, have been like forty years for me down there." She didn't say anything, just closing her hand around his and squeezing it. He looked down at their entwined hands, wanted to stop talking, but he knew she needed to know. Needed to hear it to understand why they could never be together. "But the worst part was … the things I did at the end. After … after they broke me." His fingers squeezed hers hard, his knuckles turning white as he soldiered forward, getting it all out. "I tortured souls, Jo. Soul, after soul, after soul. And now I have to live with that. But a part of me … a part of me stayed down there in the pit. A part of me died down there, Jo. I'm not a good person, and I don't want to take you down with me. Because in the end I will return to hell. It's where I belong."

"No, Dean. You're wrong." Her hand came up to cup his face, pulling his head around so that he had to face her. "You _are_ a good person."

"No, Jo. I'm sorry, but I can't be what you need." He felt tears prick the back of his eyes, and he pushed away, walking around the hood to the driver's side, meeting her gaze over the roof of the car. "I'm past saving. And I won't take you with me. I won't."

-/-

"Hey," she croaked out, wincing slightly as she shifted on the bed.

"Hey, yourself," Dean said softly, giving her a shaky smile, his hand pressing her down as she tried to push herself up. "Wow, take it easy there."

"I'm fine, Dean," she said, tilting her head left and right. It felt a little uncomfortable, but she was fine. She definitely didn't feel woozy at all. So not a concussion. What was good. "It's just a scratch."

"Just a scratch. Yeah, right," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You're on bed rest for two weeks at least."

"Doctor's orders?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Yes," he told her firmly, wagging a finger at her. "Doctor's orders."

"Are you gonna sweeten the deal, Dr. Winchester?" she questioned him, letting her eyes trail down his body.

"Jo, I ..."

"Forget it, Dean." she stopped him mid-sentence, blaming the hit on the head for her lapse in judgment. Where the hell did that seductive tone come from anyway? "It was just a joke."

"Hey." His finger slipped under her chin and he pulled her head up, the expression on his face making her heart constrict in her chest. "You know this wouldn't work. We can't work."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," she said hastily, waving her hand through the air. "Must have hit my head harder than I thought."

But he didn't let go of her chin, and tense silence fell over them. She was unable to shove him away, to just shrug it off. She could just lie there and stare into his eyes. Did he come closer?

"This is a stupid idea," he mumbled, but kept leaning forward, and then his lips brushed over hers, and her fingers wrapped around his neck, pulling him down. He came without any resistance, lying down beside her. "This is such a stupid idea."

But his hands and mouth were suddenly everywhere, helping her out of her clothes while he was kissing every newly revealed patch of her skin, and she let out a soft moan when his mouth closed around one of her nipples, his tongue doing wicked things that made her melt into the mattress, her core pounding with the need to be filled.

"Dean?"

"I know," he murmured, slipping his hand between her legs, and she let them fall apart, her breath hitching in her throat as two of his fingers slid into her while his mouth kept caressing her breast, and then his thumb brushed over her clit and she combusted, arching into his touch as the waves of her climax crashed down on her.

She was still reeling, trying to catch her breath as he suddenly hovered over her, pushing her legs apart as he settled between them, and then he slipped into her, so slowly that a deep ache settled into the pit of her stomach. An ache only he could soothe.

"God, I love being in you."

His hoarse whisper shot a jolt of liquid heat through her body, and when he started to move she wrapped her legs around him tightly, asking him silently to hit her deeper. He leaned back, pulling her with him as he kneeled on the bed. Her back arched up from the mattress, her fingers fisting the sheet as he took her with deep, slow thrusts, his eyes never leaving hers.

She was so close. So, so close.

She gasped when his fingers found her clit, rubbing it softly while he kept sliding in and out of her.

"Come on, Jo. I need you to fall with me."

And she did. Falling over the edge and taking him with her.

She was pressed against him afterwards, feeling his pulse still calming down under her fingers as she was listening to his slowing heart beat under her ear.

"Are you staying?" she asked, almost sure he would give her another lecture about how this was all wrong, but instead he just sighed, leaning his chin on her forehead.

"I shouldn't," he mumbled into her hair. "But apparently I can't stay away from you, and part of me doesn't want to." His hand trailed down her back, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and she held her breath, waiting for the inevitable rejection, but then he surprised her, his hand splaying out on the small of her back to pull her closer. "So, I'm staying."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

After waking up in her arms and realizing that it'd been the first night he slept through since he came back from hell - the first night without any nightmares - Dean stopped fighting it.

Jo didn't say a word about it, not one, when he slipped into her room every night, and he was grateful that she didn't mention it. At first they did have sex every night, and he just stayed afterwards. But after a few weeks they sometimes just talked. About hunting, or things Castiel or Sam had done, about his time in hell, about her time on earth while he was gone.

He still shied away from truly believing that this could last, but deep down he knew he'd lost his heart to her already a long time ago, and strangely it didn't scare that shit out of him anymore.

-/-

"I'll be back soon," Dean murmured against her lips, his fingers threading through her hair, his arm tightening around her waist and pulling her closer.

It was very early in the morning, and she'd woken up to Dean's tongue on her clit, giving her an earth-shattering orgasm before she was even fully awake. He'd made love to her afterwards, slow and thorough, leaving her body humming with satisfied pleasure. Her legs still felt a little shaky as she leaned now against him, feeling his scruff skimming over her forehead, smelling his unique scent as she buried her nose in his shirt.

He was only going to buy some groceries and run some errands, but if someone saw them they'd think they were about to part for weeks. Her mouth twitched, a smile pulling her lips up. They were acting as if they were characters in a sappy movie, but she didn't care. She loved him so much, and her heart felt like bursting. One of these days she needed to tell him that.

Jo still had a silly grin on her face when she turned around after watching the Impala disappear around the corner. She froze when she saw Sam standing in the doorway, and a blush rose into her cheeks when Bobby stepped out behind him, both grinning from ear to ear. Apparently they'd been witnesses to their goodbye scene. That was definitely not the way she wanted them to find out about Dean and her.

"So you finally stopped being idjits?" Bobby asked, his gruff tone making her smile.

"I think so," Joe replied, shrugging one shoulder.

"You're good for him," Sam said softly, stepping forward and pulling her into a tight hug. "He's been less tense over the last weeks."

"He is good for me too, Sam," Jo murmured into his shirt. Pushing back, she felt the need to add, "But … could you please don't let him know that you've seen us? That you know? It's … it's all still so new, and I just … I want to give him a little more time to get used to it, I guess."

"Our lips are sealed," Sam replied, and Bobby nodded.

A weight fell from Jo's shoulders then, she knew they would keep their word. Dean would tell them eventually, she was certain of that. She just wanted to give him the time he needed.

-/-

"Why are you rubbing Dean's neck?"

They both jerked as Cas asked the question, her hands falling down from Dean's neck. Dean looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Jo cursed herself for becoming so careless. It was probably because Bobby and Sam already knew – not that Dean knew that they knew - and it had just felt normal to do it. Dean had tilted his head left and right, and she knew his neck muscles would be rock hard, so she had stood up and stepped behind him, digging her fingers into his tense muscles without even thinking about it.

Now she waited for the inevitable fallout, waited for his harsh denial. He would tell them that it didn't mean anything, and she tried to brace herself for his words. But he surprised her when after a few moments of pregnant silence he turned half around and reached for her hand, pulling her beside him.

"It's what girlfriends do, Cas," Dean said. "Giving their boyfriends massages to ease the tension."

"So you two are having sex?" Cas asked in his blunt way.

"_That_ is none of your business, angel."

"But isn't sex an important part of a relationship, I always thought ..."

"Cas!" Dean said pointedly, staring the angel down.

Cas frowned at him first until Sam leaned towards him and whispered something in his ear, and you could practically see the comprehension dawning in his eyes as he listened to Sam's words.

"I'm happy for you two," Cas told them, throwing a crooked smile in their direction.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean replied, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a soft kiss over her knuckles. "I'm happy too."

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she stared down at him, her lips shaking slightly as she smiled, her throat closing up when she saw the depths of his feelings in his gaze.

She didn't need to hear him say the words out loud – Dean telling everyone that she was his girlfriend was the best love declaration he could give her.

-/-

Dean watched her while she was sleeping; one of his favorites pastimes. She would probably chastise him if she knew how often he watched her like this. Totally relaxed, her hand resting on her stomach, her chest rising and falling with her even breaths.

In the silent hours of the night Dean was able to admit that he might finally get a break; he started to hope he could have a real relationship, or as real as they were able to have while still being hunters.

But he should have known. He should have known it wouldn't last.

Two days later they'd crawled into a bunker, searching for a vampire nest. Instead they found some crates with old stuff, and they were sifting through them to see if anything was worth taking home with them, when Dean saw a spear and reached for it.

The moment he closed his fingers around it, an odd feeling rushed through him, the spear starting to vibrate in his grip. He felt it then, deep in his bones ... the shit was about to hit the fan.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

He'd changed.

He'd changed the moment he touched that spear, and Jo was worried. And she wasn't the only one. She could see the worry lines on Sam's face, saw Bobby watching Dean even more than before. He hardly slept anymore, never came to her room to just sleep beside her. When he came he needed her with a desperation that simultaneously aroused her beyond measure, and made her sick to her stomach with anxiety.

He'd started to drink excessively again, his hand wandering to a bottle of Scotch more often than to a bottle of beer. He'd drunken that much liquor before, but ever since he'd stopped fighting against the feelings they shared, he'd hardly been drunk.

Not to mention that he didn't want to talk about it. At all.

In typical Dean fashion he tried to ignore the problem, tried to hide the tremors in his hands, the constant sheen of sweat covering his face. He avoided any unnecessary contact with other people, stopped going hunting, worked on Bobby's cars or his baby.

That's where she found him, under the hood of the Impala, probably fine-tuning the motor or checking the oil. Things he'd checked up on only a few days earlier, she was sure. But Dean was Dean.

"When was the last time you slept through the night, Winchester?" she asked as she leaned against the passenger door.

"Stop fussing around, Jo," Dean replied, pulling his head out and reaching for a rag to clean his fingers of the oil. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Jo said firmly, leaning forward to put her hand on his. "Would you please stop lying? At least to yourself and me?" He finally looked at her then, and for a brief second he let her see the fear he was feeling, but then the shutter fell over his eyes again, and he shot a lopsided smirk in her direction. But she didn't want herself getting distracted, her thumb skimming over the back of his hand as she told him, "I can see it, you know. I can feel it. You're anything but fine."

She expected him to deny it again, to shrug it off. But instead his eyes suddenly turned a shade darker, and she knew where this was going. Damn him for being able to arouse her with only a glance, and she let out a groan when he stepped before her and pulled her into his arms, his mouth crashing down on hers. He was smelling of oil and male sweat, the faint smell of his cologne mingled in the mix, and her core clenched painfully.

"I'm gonna show you how fine I am," he murmured against her lips, and then he whirled her around, pressing her against the car, tilting his hips forward so that she could feel his hard length against the small of her back.

"This is not why I came out here," she breathed, closing her eyes as his hand wandered under her shirt and up, cupping her breasts, his fingers closing around her already hard nipples and twirling them around.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, his hands trailing back down her stomach, starting to work on the buttons of her pants.

She wanted to say yes, knew that having sex wasn't the answer, but he wasn't the only one who needed this; she needed it too. So she just shook her head, and moments later her jeans and panties were shoved down her legs, and she heard the telltale clinking of his belt buckle.

A shiver raced down her spine as his rigid cock brushed against her ass, and she bit her tongue when she realized he would take her like this, not even letting her step out of her jeans. She could hardly spread her legs, but it was enough for him to push inside of her, and they both groaned when he buried himself until the hilt with one hard thrust, and her hips rocked back against him on their own volition.

He let out a deep growl, one hand slipping under her shirt and pushing her bra up so that he could knead her breast, while the other curled around her waist to keep her steady as he slammed into her. Again, and again, and again. Each thrust seemed to come harder and faster, hitting her even deeper, and she pressed her forehead on the roof of the car as his hand left her breast and slipped lower, his fingers starting to work her clit hard. A moment later Dean pulled her up towards him, tilting her head so that he could kiss her harshly while his cock still slid in and out of her, and she was so damn close, every fiber of her body screaming for release, and then she was there, her walls fluttering around him as wave after wave crashed down on her.

The shivers still ran through her body as he pushed her down again and through the open window until half of her upper body was inside of the car, before he grabbed her waist with both hands and started to hammer into her in earnest. The frame was digging into her stomach painfully, but she pressed one hand against the seat and the other against the dashboard, knowing it wouldn't take him long to follow her, and only seconds later she felt him stiffen, his hips jerking forward one last time as he came.

He didn't say a word when he slipped out of her and helped her up and back into her clothes; he only pulled her into his arms at the end, burying his face in her neck, and she just wished she could do more for him than just being there whenever he needed her.

This was going on long enough. It was time to ask Castiel for help. Maybe the angel knew of a way to destroy the connection between Dean and that spear.

-/-

"It's what I feared," a voice spoke up behind her, startling her.

Her mind caught up a second later, and she whirled around, eager to hear what Cas had found out about the spear, and she slapped her hand against the angel's chest for good measure before she reprimanded him, "Castiel, don't sneak up on me like that."

"I'm sorry," he replied ruefully, "But I've confirmed my suspicions. The spear Dean touched is the Spear of Destiny."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Dean asked as Cas sat down at the table.

"It's the spear that was used to inflict Jesus's wounds on the day of his crucification," Cas explained, his eyes not meeting Dean's as he spoke, causing a feeling of dread to settle in the pit of Jo's stomach.

"And?" Jo asked, stepping behind Dean and curling her fingers around his shoulders.

"It has great powers." Castiel shifted on his chair, finally looking up to meet their gazes before continuing, "You can close the gates of Heaven and Hell with it."

"Seriously?" Dean blurted out, his body tensing under her hands.

"Yes," Castiel said, nodding in affirmation.

"You mean forever?" Jo inquired, not believing it was really possible. "No one can get in and no one can get out?"

"No, you can still get in," Castiel explained. "But no one could come back to Earth. No demons from Hell, and no angels from Heaven."

"But there is a catch, right?" Dean pressed, leaning forward. "There is always a catch."

"There has to be a sacrifice."

"What kind of sacrifice?"

"A human sacrifice."

"You mean we need to kill a human being?" Jo asked, her fingers tightening even more around Dean's shoulders, probably leaving bruises behind.

"Not exactly," Cas stated, his eyes flickering up to Jo before returning to Dean's, and a flutter of distress flitted over his face. "The one who touched the spear has to die for it to work."

"No!" Jo shouted, feeling her heart plummet into her stomach. She would not lose him. Not now. Not like this. "No, no, no, no, no. We're not gonna kill Dean to close the gates of Heaven and Hell. No!"

"He'd actually need to do it himself." Cas kept on talking, clearly adamant to get it all out. "The spear has to be coated with the blood of Jesus, and then it has to be pushed into the heart."

"But we don't have Jesus's blood." Jo said, a wave of relief surging through her body. "So it wouldn't work anyway."

"But you can get it, Cas." Dean pushed back and stood up, walking around the table towards the bottle of Scotch sitting on the counter. He screwed it open and took a big gulp before he turned around to face the angle again. "Isn't that so?"

"I could."

"Dean, no!"

Jo rushed around the table and stepped in front of him, raising her arms to cup his face between her hands and pull his head down so that he had to look at her. But the moment his eyes met hers she knew she stood no chance. He'd been a hunter his whole life, had lost too many people to monster, and if he could stop it all - if there was a way to close the gates of Heaven and Hell - he would take it.

Jo saw the irrefutable determination in his eyes; there was nothing she could do or say to change his mind, and with that realization settling into her mind she knew she would lose him.

And her heart broke into a million pieces.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Dean stepped into the doorway unnoticed and leaned against the frame, just watching her for a few moments. She was bent over the table, her whole posture showing defeat, and seeing her like this shot a sharp pain through his heart.

He loved her, with everything in him. But he still couldn't shirk the responsibility. He just couldn't. And she knew it. Accepted it. What made him love her even more.

"Jo?"

She startled slightly upon hearing her name before turning around slowly, her eyes red and puffy, and a lump formed in his throat at seeing her obvious distress. She shot him a shaky smile as she stood up, clearly trying to stay strong, but her hands were trembling as she lifted them to cup his face, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she whispered. "I know you have to do this, Dean Winchester. But I hate you for leaving me."

"I'm so sorry, Jo. But you know as well as I do that if we have the chance to close the gates of Heaven and Hell we need to take it."

A lonely tear trailed down her cheek, making his heart squeeze in his chest, but before he could say anything she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his for a chaste kiss, her lips ghosting over his as she breathed, "Make love to me, Dean."

The word love sent another spark of pain through his already bruised heart, and he gulped hard as he leaned down to lift her into his arms and carry her to her room. Since he'd touched the spear their lovemaking had always been frantic, tinged with desperation. But this time it was different; slow kisses, barely there touches as they explored each other's bodies, and then the final connection, his eyes never leaving hers as he slid slowly inside of her until he was settled deeply in her. One of her hands came to rest on his chest, directly above his heart, while her other hand rested against his cheek as he made love to her, and his heart was breaking as he stared down at her while thrusting in and out of her, knowing that their time was running out and he had to leave everyone he loved behind.

-/-

Jo didn't try to talk him out of it, not once. But she heard the heated discussions Dean had with his brother, as Sam tried desperately to change his mind or find another way to close the gates. But Dean stayed stubborn, and as hard as it was she welcomed him every night in her arms, determined to have as many memories of their time together as possible before she lost him forever.

In the night Cas went back in time to retrieve Jesus's blood Jo couldn't sleep; Dean had left her bed a while ago, and she'd heard the door click shut moments later when he'd stepped out of the house. Throwing the sheets away, she reached for her sweat pants and slipped them on before walking down the stairs to find some solace in hard liquor.

When she stepped into the study she found Sam sitting on the couch in the darkness, a bottle of scotch beside him and a full glass in his hand. He reached for another glass and filled it for her without saying anything and held it towards her. She closed her fingers around the glass and took a deep gulp, the alcohol burning down her throat. Sam's arm went up then and Jo sat down on the couch with him and curled up against him, leaning her head on his shoulder while she was fighting the tears that were always so close to the surface.

Sam's arms tightened around her and she felt him gulp hard; clearly he was also fighting not to lose it, and they stayed like that for a long time, seeking solace in their shared pain.

They were about to lose the person that was closest to their hearts, and there was nothing they could do to save him.

-/-

"You can still change your mind, Dean," Cas said softly. "We can find another way to defeat hell."

"No, Cas," Dean replied, straightening his shoulders. "You know this is the only way to end it all." He looked at the angel, surprising himself as much as Cas when he pulled him into a hug. "Take care of yourself up there, Cas."

"We will see each other again soon, Dean," Cas replied as he stepped back.

"I wouldn't be so certain about that."

"Yes, Dean," Cas said with conviction. "You will find your place in heaven."

There was nothing more to say; he'd said goodbye to everyone the night before, but he was still surprised and a little hurt that not one of them had shown up today besides his wish for them to stay away. But it was better that way, and he reached for the spear and turned the tip towards himself. His eyes flickered in the direction of the house, his heart breaking all over again as he thought of the people he'd left behind. A lonely tear spilled down his cheek, and he took in a deep breath before driving the spear into his heart.

-/-

Dean had asked her to stay away, and though Jo had been determined to grant his wish at first, she now couldn't keep herself from running out of the house and to the clearing Cas and Dean had chosen for the sacrifice. She stumbled out of the trees the moment Dean pushed the spear into his heart, and she cried out as she rushed to his side, dropping to her knees and pulling his head into her lap.

His eyes found hers and he lifted a shaking hand to close his fingers around her hand, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Jo. Sorry for not telling you sooner … I love you."

"I love you too, Dean." Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared down at the man she loved, dying in her arms, and a sob tore through her throat as she leaned down to press her forehead against his. "I always have. I always will."

"No!" he cried and pushed her away, his face contorting in pain, and his breath came out in harsh pants as he struggled against the pain, his fingers tightening around hers as he said urgently, "You have to live your life. I beg you. You have to forget me, Jo. Promise me!"

She couldn't see him clearly anymore, tears were streaming down her face as he pleaded with her, but she couldn't give him that promise. A hand suddenly closed around her shoulder, squeezing it softly in silent support before suddenly gripping her harder as the angel drew in a sharp breath.

"That can't be," Cas murmured behind her. "Why didn't I think of this possibility before?"

"What is it, Cas?" Jo asked, turning her head to look up at the angel, something in his tone shooting a spark of hope through her body.

The angel's eyes flickered to her stomach and then to Dean before settling on her face, wonder tinging his voice as he said, "There might be a way to save Dean after all."

"What?" Dean lifted his head from Jo's lap to look up at the angel.

"It could be done. But it's dangerous."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're carrying Dean's child, Jo," Cas explained, and a jolt snapped through her, her stomach suddenly growing heavy. She didn't question Cas's statement, deep down she knew he was right, and Dean apparently thought so too, because she felt him shift their entwined hands until the back of his hand pressed against her stomach. "Actually you're carrying two new human beings inside of you. They were apparently conceived while Dean was under the influence of the spear which gives them and you the power to heal. In connection with the love you share it should be enough."

"You mean I can ..." She gulped hard, her gaze returning to Dean as she breathed, "I can heal Dean?"

"Yes," Cas replied. "But there are risks. You can lose the babies. You can lose your own life."

"Jo, no," Dean gripped her hand harder, sweat trailing down his forehead, his eyes dulled with pain as he rasped, "Don't risk their lives or yours. I … please don't. Not for me."

"You stubborn ass," she screamed, startling them all with the vehemence of her voice, and she forced herself to gentle her tone when she added, "How should I live on with a daily reminder of what could have been? How can you be so selfish?"

"Selfish?"

"It's my body. My decision," she told him firmly. "I love you, Dean Winchester. And if there is a way to heal you, I will take it."

"There is no way to stop you, is there?" he asked, a smile playing over his lips despite the pain he must endure.

"No," Jo replied, new hope swelling in her chest with the possibility that she might not lose him. "Because I'm as stubborn as you are." She gripped his hand harder as she turned around to face the angel, her voice only shaking slightly as she said, "I'm ready. Let's do this."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Dean never let his eyes drift away from Jo's, holding on to her hand as tight as he could manage. The pain was radiating from his heart through his whole body, every fiber of his being was aching, and he wondered why he wasn't already dead. Must be the power of the spear that kept him still alive, and obviously Jo's love and his unborn kids.

God, he'd be a father. Jo was pregnant. But not only with one child. Two. How should he be able to be a good father? If he even stayed alive. But God, he couldn't let Jo raise them alone. This had to work.

A flash of fear apparently flitted over his face, because Jo leaned closer and her lips brushed over his forehead as she whispered, "It's okay, Dean. We're in this together."

He felt more than he heard Cas step behind him, and Jo looked up at the angel, her fingers trembling in his grip. Cas kneeled down beside his head, the angel's hand cool on his skin as he spread his fingers over Dean's forehead.

"Close your eyes, Dean."

"No," he said anxiously, fear of never being able to open his eyes again closing up his throat. "I can't … if I ..."

"You'll see with your heart, Dean," Cas said softly. "I need you both to concentrate on your love for this to work, and it'll be much easier if you close your eyes."

Dean hesitated for a brief moment, searching Jo's eyes. She gave him a wobbly smile, and the fingers of her other hand skimmed over his cheek. "I love you, Dean."

_God, let this work. _

He'd never been one for praying. But he did now. Maybe there was a God out there, maybe not. But it couldn't hurt to pray.

_God, I want to see my kids. Please, give me the strength to stay. I wanna stay._

The silent prayers were still running through his mind as he squeezed Jo's hand and locked eyes with her one last time.

"Love you, too," he whispered and closed his eyes.

"Try to relax, Dean," Cas' voice drifted to him as if the angel was standing in another room and not kneeling right beside him. "Concentrate on your love."

Dean almost gasped with surprise as he felt more than saw a deep red shimmer enveloping his injured heart, every wave of pain shooting yellow streaks through the red cloud.

"Love, Dean," Cas said urgently. "You need to find the love inside of you."

He concentrated harder, but he didn't find it. He felt his heart beat slowing, felt his skin growing cold, no matter how hard he tried, and he wanted to scream with frustration and anger that it didn't work. He'd thought he was ready to leave this earth, but now he wasn't. He was fighting, but it didn't seem enough, and he already wanted to give up as a shimmer of blue appeared in the swirl of red. He concentrated on that color, forcing it to grow bigger and bigger, until it took on a shape. It looked like a person, and he almost opened his eyes as he stared at the cloud of blue color with closed eyes, the thought flickering through his brain how he could see without really using his eyes, and he almost laughed with the ridiculousness of this thought. But then two lighter dots of blue grew in the middle of the blue shape, and he knew with utmost clarity that he was looking at a manifestation of the children Jo and he'd created, and his heart skipped a beat with awe.

_God, you're all so beautiful._

"That's it, Dean," Cas' voice sounded slightly hollow; far, far away. But he could still understand him. "Right there. Hold on to that."

And he did, held on to it with all the strength he could find in him. The blue shape grew and grew, the red getting smaller and smaller, and then he felt a sharp pain ripping him apart, a scream tearing through his throat. A hot wave washed over him, his back arched up and he felt the spear shift, slowly gliding out of him while he could feel how his heart healed simultaneously. He couldn't breathe, didn't draw any air into his lungs, but he wasn't afraid, he didn't feel as if he was suffocating, just a feeling of deep peace settling over him.

"Goodbye, Dean." The words were swimming through his mind, the voice sounding familiar but he couldn't put a name to it. He knew the person behind the voice wouldn't do him any harm, though, and he let himself drift away on the cloud of peace, letting exhaustion pull him under, hearing the voice one last time before losing consciousness, "I'll watch over you from heaven."

-/-

When Dean awakened the pain was only a dull memory and he shifted, wondering if he'd died after all. But when he opened his eyes slowly he saw Jo lying beside him, and he pushed himself up on hands and knees with some effort, crawling over to her, praying that she was okay, hoping that they were both still alive.

They were still on the clearing, and he felt okay. But maybe he was only feeling well because he was in heaven and not on earth anymore. He lifted his hand when he reached Jo, and the moment he touched her he just knew they were alive; he just felt it.

Jo's eyes fluttered, and a moment later her gaze found his and her hand lifted, cradling his cheek. "Hey, there."

He couldn't say anything, overwhelmed by emotions. He hauled her into his arms and just let the tears fall. Tears of gratitude, tears of joy, tears of loss.

He was still alive. Jo was alive. The kids were okay. Sam and Bobby were okay. But he lost someone dear to his heart, lost a dear friend, and he sent a silent prayer to heaven, thanking Castiel for everything he'd done for them.

_You'll always be with us, brother._

His shoulders were shaking by now, the strain caused by years of fighting flowing out of him, but Jo was there, holding him together.

"It's okay, Dean. It's okay," she whispered, her hand stroking soothingly up and down his back. "We're safe. It's over."

For the first time in years Dean relaxed completely, knowing it to be true. It was finally over. The monsters were gone. He tightened his arms around Jo, the tears still blurring his vision as he laid his head on her chest, and just breathed.

It was over.

They could finally live a normal life.


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Six years later_

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Cas' voice ripped Dean out of sleep, and he stumbled into his son's bedroom before even being fully awake. Normally Jo would go to them if one of them woke up from a nightmare, but she wasn't here tonight.

Just before he reached the bed he realized that he was holding his gun in his hand, and he forced himself to snap the safety on and put it away before going to his son. There wasn't any need for a weapon anymore. The monsters his son had probably seen in a nightmare weren't real anymore. But sometimes, when he was jerked out of deep sleep, he didn't remember that the world had changed six years ago. That the gates of Heaven and Hell were closed forever.

"Shhh, Cas. It's alright. Daddy is here. It's okay."

"There was a monster under my bed," his son whispered, clinging to him.

The words still gave him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, because he still remembered so well the times when he was five and knew that there were real monsters out there in the world. Monsters who could harm him, could harm his little brother.

John had woken up from his brother's cries and stared at them wide-eyed. Dean motioned him to crawl into bed with them, and John climbed out of his bed and into the bed of his brother, making Dean smile when he put his small arms around Cas, trying to soothe him. John was only three minutes older than Cas, but he still acted like an older brother all the time.

"You don't have to be afraid, Cas," John said quietly, gesturing into the corner, the movement causing the hair on Dean's neck to rise as his eyes shot to the corner. But there was nothing there. At least nothing he could see, and John's next words punched him straight in the stomach. "You know he is here. You know Castiel is watching over us. See?"

Cas tilted his head so that he could look into the corner, and his body suddenly relaxed in Dean's arms, his voice being a lot steadier as he whispered to his brother, "Yes. Yes, I can see him."

"Our guardian angel is always with us, Cas. Castiel is always with us," John said with firm conviction.

A lump formed in Dean's throat as he stared into the corner, hoping to get a glimpse of what his sons were seeing, hoping to just see his former friend for a brief moment. But he saw nothing.

His sons calmed down eventually, lying down on either side of him, and Dean wrapped his arms around them, waiting for their breaths to even out and their bodies to slacken against his before he looked up and stared at the corner again.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Cas," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek as he stared into the darkness. "But if you can … I just wanna tell you thank you. Thank you for everything you did. Thank you for being here. Thank you for protecting my sons."

Dean waited for a few minutes, hoping he would get an answer of some kind, but of course there was nothing, and eventually he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, feeling completely safe.

After all their guardian angel was watching over them.

**The End**


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